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I’ve always enjoyed being able to drop into an Episcopal church when I’m traveling. Here’s a fun little story, but first a little background.
Fr. Frank Chun is a good friend of my parents (they met him at St. Elizabeth’s Episcopal Church in Hawaii while he was preparing for the ministry). I first met him when he was a chaplain at a church summer camp in Hawaii (our family had gone to Hawaii for an extended visit that summer). He was also somewhat on his honeymoon, having just gotten married a few weeks earlier.
Frank has had a long full career, including serving as chaplain for St. Andrew’s Priory School for Girls, and most recently, being rector at Epiphany Episcopal Church in Kaimuki, a neighborhood in the outskirts of Honolulu.
Our family was in town for an 88th birthday celebration for my Aunt Dorothy. While there, we thought we would stop in to attend service and surprise Frank and his family. Frank had been rector at Epiphany for several years and had planned to retire from there.
We showed up a few minutes early and were greeted by several church members. We saw a few folks vested but did not see Frank. Hmmm, maybe he was still preparing for the service. Katherine Wong introduced herself to us and welcomed us as visitors. We informed her that we had attended Epiphany a couple of years ago, knew Frank, and wanted to visit again. Katherine told us that Frank had, in fact, retired last fall and they had a new rector. Oh well!
Fr. David Jackson, the new rector, is a dynamic speaker. You know you’re in an Episcopal church when it’s cool to include Harry Potter in the sermon in a positive light. One of his analogies to Christianity was how much the power of love played a part in Harry Potter’s life. (Harry was actually saved from an evil wizard because of the love of his parents. If you have any questions, check with Tricia or Joseph Henry {BG} ).
As part of the announcements after communion, members are asked to introduce visitors. Being the summer season, several members had relatives in town. As it turned out, we had sat next to Frank’s daughter, Carrie-Anne. She informed the congregation that we were the Marks visiting from the mainland. We had planned to attend service to surprise her parents, but the surprise was on us! We were still warmly welcomed, though.
As has been my experience at many Episcopal churches, the members are very warm and welcoming. Epiphany was no different. While chatting with Marilyn and Steven Wong, it turned out that she was familiar with my Aunt Dorothy (whose birthday we would be celebrating) and her late husband, Uncle Ken. Also, apparently Aunt Dorothy’s daughter, my cousin, Colleen, lives right around the corner from Marilyn’s mother’s place – it’s a small world!
So, even though we were on vacation, I’m glad we were able to take some time to attend service Sunday morning. Although I’m six time-zones away (nine hours by plane), I still feel like I’m home when I step inside an Episcopal church!
Steve Mark
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Would Patricia Bless a Thermos?
“Mom, I don’t think you want to ask Patricia to bless a thermos,” Wolfie said shaking his head.
Although I do not think that Patricia would shy away from blessing a thermos, especially if it were filled with water to be used in a house blessing, I poured out the green metal thermos and started over. The first thing that caught my eye was actually perfect, a cobalt blue bottle in the dining room window, usually brilliant with afternoon sun. The bottle had a ‘sort of’ matching lid, a glass stopper with no rubber to keep liquid in. Ten minutes after I should have left for the early service, Ron and Wolfie were still wrapping band aide tape around and round the stopper so that it would hold water.
But that was good because when I walked in late, somewhere around the second psalm, my blue bottle wasn’t leaking.
The need for a house blessing all started a few months ago when my mother began her retirement migration to my great-grandmother’s house in Alford, Fla., population 464. Mom was a little unsettled about moving down to the Alabama-Florida state line to a house filled with years of family memories . . . and ghosts.
Given that I am generally accepted as the family spiritual seeker naturally Mom came to me to find out about exorcisms. I know a few things, none of which are about exorcism. So one morning at church before Sunday school, I mentioned my problem to Tim Black, our seminarian, that my mother’s new old house needed a little extra cleaning. And he pulled out the Anglican house blessing liturgy and made a copy for me.
As we were talking, Nancy Dillon walked by and gave her approval to the idea. She had had her house blessed and I got the impression that it had worked nicely.
“You can be the celebrant,” Tim told me enthusiastically. That was good because while I’d probably ask Patricia to bless a thermos, I would not ask her to drive six hours to bless a house unless it was the Taj Mahal. Anyway, the reason the project dragged on for so long is that Mom was secretly worried about my qualifications to be celebrant and she went back and forth a little on planning because of that. Maybe a house blessing didn’t work without an ordained priest, for instance.
Now I didn’t have to snag Patricia after the early service because she was naturally drawn to my blue bottle. “I need a couple of blessings,” I said. I told her I needed the water blessed to make it holy and that I needed a blessing, her blessing, as a celebrant to do the whole thing right.
Patricia simply beamed and proceeded to bless me and my family and the water and the house. And now, copies of the liturgy have been dispersed and read by all who will participate in the ceremony, which will take place at the end of my vacation a couple of Sundays from now. We shall see!
Although I do not think that Patricia would shy away from blessing a thermos, especially if it were filled with water to be used in a house blessing, I poured out the green metal thermos and started over. The first thing that caught my eye was actually perfect, a cobalt blue bottle in the dining room window, usually brilliant with afternoon sun. The bottle had a ‘sort of’ matching lid, a glass stopper with no rubber to keep liquid in. Ten minutes after I should have left for the early service, Ron and Wolfie were still wrapping band aide tape around and round the stopper so that it would hold water.
But that was good because when I walked in late, somewhere around the second psalm, my blue bottle wasn’t leaking.
The need for a house blessing all started a few months ago when my mother began her retirement migration to my great-grandmother’s house in Alford, Fla., population 464. Mom was a little unsettled about moving down to the Alabama-Florida state line to a house filled with years of family memories . . . and ghosts.
Given that I am generally accepted as the family spiritual seeker naturally Mom came to me to find out about exorcisms. I know a few things, none of which are about exorcism. So one morning at church before Sunday school, I mentioned my problem to Tim Black, our seminarian, that my mother’s new old house needed a little extra cleaning. And he pulled out the Anglican house blessing liturgy and made a copy for me.
As we were talking, Nancy Dillon walked by and gave her approval to the idea. She had had her house blessed and I got the impression that it had worked nicely.
“You can be the celebrant,” Tim told me enthusiastically. That was good because while I’d probably ask Patricia to bless a thermos, I would not ask her to drive six hours to bless a house unless it was the Taj Mahal. Anyway, the reason the project dragged on for so long is that Mom was secretly worried about my qualifications to be celebrant and she went back and forth a little on planning because of that. Maybe a house blessing didn’t work without an ordained priest, for instance.
Now I didn’t have to snag Patricia after the early service because she was naturally drawn to my blue bottle. “I need a couple of blessings,” I said. I told her I needed the water blessed to make it holy and that I needed a blessing, her blessing, as a celebrant to do the whole thing right.
Patricia simply beamed and proceeded to bless me and my family and the water and the house. And now, copies of the liturgy have been dispersed and read by all who will participate in the ceremony, which will take place at the end of my vacation a couple of Sundays from now. We shall see!
Ode to our Fox
For the last several months a frequent visitor to St. Dunstan's has been a red fox. He has shown up for Sunday School, watching the kids from the courtyard. One memorable morning he appeared for the 8:30 service, watching the congregation during the sermon (and they were all watching him, making me wonder why no one was looking at me while I preached!). Periodically during the week we would see him trotting across the yard, or sunning himself in the grass. I think all who have seen him have felt an attraction to this beautiful creature with his alert ears, bright eyes, luxurious red coat and long fabulously bushy tail.
Last night (Tuesday) about 8:30 we were about to go out the front door after a vestry meeting when we suddenly stopped. There, on the sidewalk right in front of the door, was the fox. Something didn't seem right. Several people were very close to him, yet he did not move. His breathing seemed labored. We opened the door and he finally painfully moved to the grass. It was obvious he was sick or hurt, badly. There was nothing we could do. We called wildlife control and left a message. They never returned the call. After waiting around a while, watching him we finally went home. When I arrived at church this morning he was gone.
I think all who have seen this fox in the last months have felt blessed by his companionship. It felt like he had chosen us and this place. And last night he came here, to the door of the church, for sanctuary, for healing, maybe for a peaceful place to die. I wish I could have anointed him. I wish I could have given him last rites. I wish I could have stroked his head and told him everything would be okay. Maybe he was not as sick or hurt as we thought he was. Maybe he is okay now. I hope so. But wherever he is, I hope he is restored to wholeness and health and peace. And I thank God for sharing this wonderful creature with us.
Tricia Templeton
Last night (Tuesday) about 8:30 we were about to go out the front door after a vestry meeting when we suddenly stopped. There, on the sidewalk right in front of the door, was the fox. Something didn't seem right. Several people were very close to him, yet he did not move. His breathing seemed labored. We opened the door and he finally painfully moved to the grass. It was obvious he was sick or hurt, badly. There was nothing we could do. We called wildlife control and left a message. They never returned the call. After waiting around a while, watching him we finally went home. When I arrived at church this morning he was gone.
I think all who have seen this fox in the last months have felt blessed by his companionship. It felt like he had chosen us and this place. And last night he came here, to the door of the church, for sanctuary, for healing, maybe for a peaceful place to die. I wish I could have anointed him. I wish I could have given him last rites. I wish I could have stroked his head and told him everything would be okay. Maybe he was not as sick or hurt as we thought he was. Maybe he is okay now. I hope so. But wherever he is, I hope he is restored to wholeness and health and peace. And I thank God for sharing this wonderful creature with us.
Tricia Templeton
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Prayer During Morning Commute
Bruce Lafitte posted this comment below to my request for thoughts about morning prayer routine. I posted again here to make sure people see it! Sibley
Back in 1981, I went to my Cursillo weekend. That could be a whole topic unto itself, but during the weekend I was invited to begin a spiritual discipline or "rule of life" as it is sometimes called. After the weekend, I began the discipline of spending my morning commute to work as my prayer time. I leave the radio off and still spend that time in prayer, to this day. I don't always "say" all of my prayers, but I remind myself that prayer is a conversation. If you are not quiet at times, you can not hear what God is saying to you. One thing I always pray is that I will be a Christian witness in all that I do and say that day. Years ago, I heard someone say that "witness is not something you do; it is something you are". I always try to remember that in how I conduct my life.
Back in 1981, I went to my Cursillo weekend. That could be a whole topic unto itself, but during the weekend I was invited to begin a spiritual discipline or "rule of life" as it is sometimes called. After the weekend, I began the discipline of spending my morning commute to work as my prayer time. I leave the radio off and still spend that time in prayer, to this day. I don't always "say" all of my prayers, but I remind myself that prayer is a conversation. If you are not quiet at times, you can not hear what God is saying to you. One thing I always pray is that I will be a Christian witness in all that I do and say that day. Years ago, I heard someone say that "witness is not something you do; it is something you are". I always try to remember that in how I conduct my life.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
St. Dunstan's Fun Day
Today I am starting to write about the parish fun day that will be held on Saturday, August 22, 2009, at Callaway Gardens. Tricia and I have been having discussions on holding a parish retreat and we decided that having fun is what we all need to do! Of course, fun can be had at a retreat, but that is a topic for another discussion. Claudia Gimson and I are planning the Fun Day and are in frequent contact with each other. Peachy Horne will scout out the logistics of playing some golf and Tricia will conduct a Eucharist at the end of the day to send us on our way back home. I have also asked Bruce LaFitte to play his guitar at the Eucharist. I will keep everyone updated on this blog site and also on our web site, www.stdunstan.net.
For now,
Jeanne Taylor
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